Beg
by Angelblaze2007
Summary: He can't remember his skin reforming itself, losing all the fur and claws that made him the ferocious powerhouse he was in the first. He can't remember his organs sucking or growing themselves back inside or the skin closing over the wound. He can remember one thing. Staring into piercing eyes and the moon shining overhead and obeying willingly, wanting when he was told. "Kneel."
1. Moonlight

Up ahead, the full moon begs for his attention, painting everything in a beautiful beaming light. Atsushi doesn't risk looking up, losing control now might mean not catching this man before he can take another life. He speeds past a collection of garbage, rounds the corner with a skidding stop and, there, past the next turn, he can make out the shadow of the man. He gets up his speed again and darts towards the still shadow, shouting for the man to stop and give himself up.

Atsushi doesn't see the man's face but the glint of the moon that shines off his hand and thrusts itself into his lower stomach. Pain blooms outward, red, a horrible feeling of something being yanked out of his belly. Stupid, he would be the only one thinking the violent criminal wouldn't have a knife. Then again, two months ago he wouldn't have thought he'd be speeding through alleyways trying to catch a wanted terrorist.

The last thing he hears is the wretched sound of soft, squishy matter heavier than blood splattering against the concrete. He looks down, sees his entrails and, without thinking, tries to grab them with the knife still forcing its way through his stomach. He loses a few fingers to the blade before he finally falls.

"Atsushi!" The shout echoes through the alleyways but its source is only feet away. Ah, there's Dazai coming in right on cue to watch him fail. He curls in on himself as the target drops the sliver knife and dashes down the alley. His hands ball to fists pressed to his stomach, the pain is blinding, overwhelming, there's nothing but pain. The world goes dark around him and he wishes that maybe he should've been more careful, him, without a real combat ability, getting into a fight with a violent criminal. Laughable, that.

The concrete is cold and hard but there isn't a single drop of his blood or viscera and something wonderous, comforting and warm rises in him. He can't remember his skin reforming itself, losing all the fur and claws that made him the ferocious powerhouse he was in the first place. He can't remember his organs sucking or growing themselves back inside or the skin closing over the wound. He can remember one thing. Staring into piercing eyes and the moon shining overhead and obeying willingly, wanting when he was told.

"Kneel."

Atsushi's pressed against the ground on all fours with Dazai's foot pressed against his head. Dazai's expression is unreadable, which is good because there's a tighteness in his pants and he'd rather assume that Dazai is worried about his health and safety rather than risk the chance that the man is ashamed of him.

"You had me worried there for a second." Dazai's looming over him, now sporting a wicked smile. Maybe he knows what he's awakening, what something like this is doing to him. Maybe he doesn't and he's freaking out over nothing but there's something there that's alluring about this. The footsteps behind him grow louder and he shifts, wanting to make sure no one sees the bludge in his pants.

"We're all good here, no problems~" Dazai steps away and Atsushi hides himself towards the back of the group, feigning stomach pains.

The moment he gets back home he takes a cold shower and heads to bed, not wanting to think about the previous night or whatever new, fucked up thing he's now got going on. Between murderous terrorists, transforming into a tiger, working for an investigation agency and waking up with brand new kinks, he doesn't want to think about what tomorrow could have in store. 


	2. Kennel

When the sunlight hits his face he groans, rolls over and heads back to sleep. The pillows are soft and welcoming, the day is too much of a burden and with everything last night brought to him, he still has trouble thinking of the future. If he's lucky, perhaps he can lie here all day and do nothing and worry about everything later.

The door throws itself open and Dazai's singing floods his room. "Wakey, wakey, Atsushi! We're going on an investigation~." He gets up and immediately is knocked down again by a bag full of clothes hitting him in his face. His old clothing was sliced to pieces and bloodstained, so it did make sense, but why is Dazai even here so early in the morning? The sun's hardly come up yet.

Dazai answers as if he asked. "I would love to be drowning myself right now but you lost our guy, so now we have to head out to where he think he was last seen. Which, come to think of it is a kennel. Hm, wonder why that is."

So last night wasn't a dream then. Dazai was pressing him into the dirt and his body was getting off to it without a single question asked and everything was entirely too hot and too much for him, to think he was already becoming a pervert at his age. By the time he can get Dazai to get out so he can get dressed, because he sure as hell isn't risking having anything happen after all that, its almost noon.

Atsushi hardly pays any mind to the chatter Dazai is spouting on the way there. Why would a terrorist be found at a kennel, anyway? It hardly matters, if they can't find a connection. When they get there Dazai dedicates himself to finding the most terrifying dog and throwing himself at it, curiously picking at the locks on the cage without the slightest hint of concern for his personal safety. Thankfully, the owner follows him around closely enough to prevent catastrophe.

Atsushi wants to run as far away from this place as he can. He doesn't like the sight of animals locked up, uncared for and generally mistreated. The cages are all rusty and cramped, the food bowls are all tiny and he doesn't enjoy the sight of the occasional dog that eases away from the front of the cage, frightened by the sight of a human. He didn't even know places like this were legal.

Atsushi finds the owner as soon as he can and questions him. "You wouldn't have happened to see this man wandering around, have you sir?" Atsushi says, showing him a photograph of the man. The owner shakes his head and Atsushi pockets it and thanks the man for his time. Then he spends the next ten minutes searching for Dazai. He finds him and, what else, Dazai is poking the rickety cage of a ferocious black and brown spotted dog. The animal barks with drool spilling from its mouth and dripping over a sharp row of stained teeth.

"He's lying." Dazai says without looking at him. "We'll have someone go through his financial records and then re-question him. Thanks for asking though, I don't enjoy making people search for evidence." The dogs is feral and wild. Its bark sounds like a sick old man's cough. A part of Atsushi feels bad for the thing, lacking control and possibly having to be put down.

With Dazai's focus squared on this one animal, he doesn't have to make eye contact. Its the best time to take the risk and head out there with it. "If you don't mind me asking, what happened last night?"

"The man got away, Atsushi, hence why we're here." Dazai laughs. "Or do you mean what happened before all that?"

The pause extending between them is enough to make him wish he never asked. The note Dazai's voice drops to is beyond concerning, there's a mischievous glint in his eye. Where could he begin, after an apology for all the awkwardness Dazai and the team probably dealt with. Dazai cuts him off, grins ear to ear and answers. "You attacked me, I changed you back. Why, what are you so worried for?"

Disaster averted, nothing happened, he can breathe and not let him know and everything will be fine. "I was just curious, I would hate for you to have to deal with my mistakes."

"Not your fault, though in that case maybe we should train together then. They say tigers are like giant puppies anyway!" Dazai laughs, not missing a beat. He isn't sure how comfortable he is with Dazai treating him like a wild animal, he already can't control himself and being locked up in a cage like that barking wild beast that Dazai's poking at isn't high on his list of life choices. "Let's see Atsushi, you think I could handle training my own wolf dog? How cool would it be for it to turn on me and tear my throat out?"

"Hey, hey." Dazai beckons to one of the rowdier animals in the cage. "Kneel." There's a rolling moan hidden behind the command, an beckoning echo hidden behind a wall. It's breathy, secretive and as desperate as Atsushi is when he hears it. The animal goes still and does as he commands, kneeling obediently at the foot of its assumed master and Atsushi wants and doesn't want and needs to heed just like it does.

He can't read Dazai's full expression. He watches, mesmerized, as Dazai reaches through the cage bars and pets the tamed creature on the head with a peaceful smile.

He collapses through his front door. The day drained him and even now, after a full day of trying to figure it out, he still doesn't know whether or not Dazai knows what the hell is going on or is just screwing with him.


	3. Imagine

Atsushi is lying on a bare light blue, faded mattress besides one of those outdated rusted metal folding chairs. His gloves and shoes are abandoned by the side of the bed, in this gray, damp basement located who knows where. The little light that's provided stems from a dimming bulb held up by a single string and controlled by the same. Paint is peeling off the walls, dust cakes around the edges of the floors. This place hasn't been used for months. Perfect.

Dazai stands in the doorway. His eyes are hidden underneath the shadows of his messy hair but that mischievous smile is a constant that Atsushi can cling to. The man throws his tan jacket against the chair and steps towards him. Dazai orders him with a single, beautiful word. "Kneel."

Atsushi reaches for Dazai's hand. He wants to be good for him, to the point where he isn't sure he's ever wanted anything more. Not food when he was starving or water when he was dying of thirst or other people when he was being driven mad with loneliness. He desires that hand to come down and touch him until he can't take any more. Dazai doesn't give that to him, he retreats into the darkness where Atsushi can't reach.

"Kneel." The force behind it, awakens a deep throbbing want in him to obey and hope. He goes dizzy and obeys, lowering himself to all fours. Dazai gives him the positive reinforcement every pet needs. His caring hand pressing against Atsushi's forehead, combing its way through his gray locks, easing its way down against the back of his head and trailing down his spine.

Fingers hook around the loops of his pants they're pulled down. It's a slow process, not because there's a belt but because everything is too slow for his liking, the speed and the heat of normal lust would make this easier to bear. Dazai doesn't want easy, he wants obedience, patience and willingness. Atsushi will give it to him, he promises.

When Dazai's hand first makes contact and the first slap goes out, Atsushi isn't sure whether to be ashamed or delighted. His cock stirs to life and his fingers grind against the fabric of the bedspread. The second hits and he melts, mouth spilling over with apologies and pleas and he isn't even sure what he's done wrong.

"Next time, do as I say the first time I say it." Dazai commands and he mumbles agreement. Dazai's hands return and squeeze his ass, hard, with enough force to push him forward. "Stay." Dazai commands and he does his best to keep in place, even with his cock dripping precum and Dazai's palms gliding smooth against parts of him he never thought he'd hand over to a man, especially not so desperately.

It goes on for what feels like hours, with Atsushi's hands gripping the bed spread and his cock flushed and heavy until he can't take anymore and at last his master whispers, "Touch yourself, slow." and he wraps his right palm around himself and does as he's told. He moves as slow as he can. The hardness of his cock is begging for more speed, the normal lust and informality of a quick one. Dazai's eyes are on him and he won't displease him. Without the speed, its not enough. Only enough to keep him hard and wanting, rocking into his hand while Dazai watches him from behind. Occasionally, Dazai walks around him, admiring him from every conceivable angle and Atsushi feels so good that he's doing good for him.

Then Dazai's foot is against his head, pushing him down and lowering him. His cock's hot and hard in his palm and the precum makes him slick enough that he can grip himself with his bare palm. His hips are shaking with the force of it all and his body is running hot. Dazai whispers filthy, horrible things that only his ears are allowed to hear, orders him to go faster until the breath leaves his lungs and he's calling out his name-.

He spills over, grinding into his hand and whispering Dazai's name like a sacred prayer, lips forming pleas for more and hand keeping up the pace. He keeps going, trembling with his hand shaking until tingling and oversensitive he collapses back against his futon, breath ragged. He's alone, in his room and he swears that he doesn't want to face tomorrow again.


	4. Discovery

When the day started and he cleaned the cum off of his hands, he decided that now was the time he was going to deal with these emotions once and for all. He isn't sure how he's managed to avoid Dazai for so long but its clear he's running on borrowed time. Through some miracle or another Kunikida's managed to force Dazai to do some work and left him to his own devices. Now he had the time to deal with these emotions once and for all.

Then the clock hit twelve and he's in the organizations bathroom, having a second orgasm with one hand on his cock, the other lightly squeezing his throat and moaning Dazai's name with the thought of a collar around his neck and being called 'puppy'. He was turning into a full blown freak at this rate and by three in the afternoon he was scrambling trying to find someway out of this mess. He didn't want to risk Dazai finding out, if he didn't already know and, if Atsushi was going to be honest, he didn't want to know if Dazai found out to begin with. He wanted his boners gone and his sexual life back to the normal nothingness it was at the beginning of all this madness.

Four came around. Dazai came storming in and, thanks to half-assed work, Kunikida's beatings gave Atsushi the opening he needed to sneak around him and head straight to the exit. He got home without incident at five. This was getting to be too much. He can't spend the rest of his days tip toeing past Dazai but he sure as hell can't reveal this perversion to him, its gross and bad for work and Kunikida would lose his mind.

If he was only normal, then he could get a dominatrix or someone secretive to deal with all these feelings that he can't get a handle on. Risking him transforming into a tiger is too much of a danger, not when Dazai himself is both the object of his strange desires and the only person who could stop him without a fight should something happen.

He isn't sure how he made it through the night without debasing himself again, but he slides into work and finds a place two floors down to hide. A room tucked away, second to the last of a long hallway of old doors. There's an abandoned leather sofa by the wall, old unused computers lined up in the center and the see-through window of the door is covered with a layer of dust no mere duster could penetrate. Perfect, perhaps he can relax here, in the darkness of this room, and not have to deal with any of his own nonsense today.

His fantasies find him again and he keeps an ear out to make sure no one's around. Against the dirt covered floor on the side of the room, hidden from whatever prying eyes could be searching for him, he unzips his pants, sits on the floor and strokes himself. Nothing too major, he can't be found making noise. Though all the good his self control does him ends up not meaning a thing when he loses it, gets on all fours and thrusts into his hand. His mind tells him it isn't him moving, its the force of Dazai's hips surging him forward, perhaps with a hand pushing his head to the floor and demeaning words reducing him into nothing, to parts meant for Dazai to fuck, urging him on.

"You think you're being quiet, you're not. I will give you credit for being smart enough to pick the second to last though."

His head snaps up and he wants disappear. Dazai, standing there with his hands in his pockets. This was doomed to happen from the get go, with his behavior and now he has to look up and see Dazai standing there with that expression that says nothing but says so much.

Atsushi opens his mouth to speak between breaking sobs. "Shut up." Dazai spits. Atsushi's eyes brim with tears and he whimpers, some apologies dancing on his tongue until Dazai's shoe rises above him and slowly eases his head back to the ground. "Five minutes, Atsushi. Five. Come for me in five or you won't at all."

It's wonderful, incredible, enough to steal the breath from his lungs and make his eyes roll back as Dazai's foot nudges and rolls against his head with careful pressure, enough to keep him down and conscious of his master's presence. He uses his now free other hand to stroke himself along with his first, wrapping them around one another as if he's trying to wring his own orgasm out. His head's turned the side and from the corner of his eye he can see Dazai's expression. Lips straight, if a bit pursed together, eyes focused down on him, eyebrows at ease, that unreadable expression again.

"Three."

Dazai knows. He knows and even better, he's helping. The man he wants to fuck him out of his mind knows and isn't rejecting him and calling him out for his inappropriate behavior. Dazai's here and watching his every move and he can feel himself melt a little more at that fact, his fingers slicking with more precum.

"One."

His cock is weeping pre-cum but he can't manage to cum. His skin tingles and he begins to cover himself in a thin veneer of sweat. Every other breath he mumbles Dazai's name, there's a sweet calling from Dazai back, urging him forward with his heart pounding in his ears and his cock almost becoming too sensitive to touch making every stroke that much better and worse.

"We're done here." The pressure is gone and he misses it, he wants it back but when he raises his head Dazai is walking out of the door as gingerly as he strolls almost everywhere else, as if nothing happened.

Atsushi lets himself go, fingers coming away sticky despite him never coming, never having enough. He sits up. What the hell even happened just now? Dazai came, stepped on him for five minutes and left without another word and he didn't even finish. Atsushi exhales, the weight of everything he had to deal with resettling on his shoulders. Him participating doesn't mean he's alright with all of this and now he's left to finish himself on his own.

"Atsushi~" Dazai calls from the doorway. Atsushi stops again. Now he's beaming ear to ear, easing his hands off his cock because Dazai's cheeriness isn't exactly appropriate. Dazai steps back in the room and grins. "Just wanted to let you know, if I find out you came without me giving you express permission, it won't be pleasant."

Atsushi stumbles through a sentence until Dazai either runs out of patience or time. He's amazed Dazai even shows interest in him in the first place.

"So zip your pants back up, get up and go organize the papers near my desk." As far as he can remember, thats the first time Dazai's ever ordered him, without joking or playing around, to do something. It's demanding, verging on loud and speaking with enough of a deep lit that his head clouds a bit. "Make too much eye contact with me or touch yourself and I'll drag you back here, fuck you senseless and make sure you don't finish."

Atsushi nods and fixes himself up. Not too bad, after he dusts the dirt and crumbs off the side of his face and shoves his erection back in his pants as best he can. Dazai tells him to hurry up and he points to his obvious erection.

"Don't worry about it. You're a growing boy. And...Atsushi?" Dazai smacks his ass. His hand is firm, strong and the snapping sound of his hand against him brings every memory of being spanked in his fantasies comes back. He wants to sink to the floor, put his ass in the air and beg for it. "Promise me you'll be good."

"I'll be good."

"Good. Now onto those papers."


	5. Tease

Atsushi's heart fluttered at the thought of Dazai returning his weird sexual feelings. The whole world became that much more of a nuisance when his absurd feelings got involved. Now, he'd always have the memory of Dazai himself, looming over him and ordering him in that firm, unshakable voice.

He follows Dazai into the office where the entire room is flooded wall to wall with various papers, unmarked and marked boxes of all shapes and sizes. Multiple stacks have spilled out onto the floor. It's impossible to walk into the room and not step on paper. "Alrighty, then! All you have to do is organize these papers. I will of course be here to supervise your efforts." Dazai throws himself onto the couch and pulls out his headphones.

Atsushi glances at the papers and at Dazai. Well, what little he can see of Dazai past all the manilla envelopes.

"How exactly should I organize them?"

"How are they usually organized~?"

"Given the fact that the paper looks like this, I'd say it's never been 'usually organized'." Atsushi groans. He's still hard, to the point where he wants to rub himself off right there. Dazai's happily thrown himself over the ragged couch. Headphones on, singing and occasionally rolling over for a stanza or two while he separates papers into multiple needless categories. Atsushi can't help but occasionally look up from his work and watch Dazai act as goofy and carefree as ever. He's an entirely different person.

By the time he clears out the first stack, two more have fallen over to take its place. No wonder none of this ever got done, who would want to be stuck here doing it?

"Atsushi."

He freezes on the spot, dropping a stack of paper's he's working on. Dazai's whisper is low and breathy and he swears he's heard it before in a dream or a fantasy he's conjured up one time or another. He pretends as if he hasn't spent the whole day working with a raging boner that's only just settled down to vague aching. "Yes, I'm almost done with this quarter of the room." He works twice as fast, gathering papers from off the floor and collecting them on the desk in front of him.

He's waiting to hear the telltale steps of Dazai walking back to the couch since all he needs to do is whisper to get his head cloudy. Nothing comes and with every passing second he becomes more and more tense because its as if Dazai knows damn well how effective his little method is and while he surely isn't against Dazai touching and taking him as he pleases, he has no idea what he should be doing right now.

"At~su~shi~" Dazai repeats, singing his name with all the dark joy that he's come to expect from Dazai's suicide attempts. Then Dazai's fingertips are squeezing his waist, veering on painful but never hitting that plateau. Enough that he can't ignore it, enough that Atsushi wants him to pull his hips back and get rid of all these too tight clothes.

Then he's gone again, without another word. There's only the sound of him flopping back on the couch and singing with abandon. Atsushi continues his work without question until Kunikida arrives. Kunikida must've sensed something because he shoved him out of the door before he could waddle his way to the bathroom and take care of his problem. Getting home with it was difficult with his waist aching thanks to the bag he kept in front of him. He'll take minor pain over embarrassment in public by his body any day.

The door closes behind him with an affirming click and he slides down against it, shoving away his bag and slinking his pants to his thighs. The floor is rough and he doesn't have any lube but he spits on his open palm and tugs at himself, mumbling Dazai's name.


	6. Gaze

He isn't haunted by the thought of facing Dazai any more. There's nothing to fear now, he wasn't going to be rejected. The next few days pass without incident. No new breaks on the ongoing case, no violent group kicking down their front door. On more than one occasion he's alone with Dazai in the office, either working on papers or reviewing information. Atsushi finds Dazai's eyes, the faint smile in them that's teasing and knowing about how much the littlest hint of contact means and he's never the first one to break the clash, always the first one to glance down and flash back up again.

Atsushi risks it once. He gazes over Dazai's figure, over the lithe body hidden underneath a jacket that doesn't fit his form, tall legs, bandaged arms and thin, dexterous fingers, handsome features and eyes that could switch at a moments notice from joking to serious and back again. Dazai catches him and, for the most delightful second, his eyebrows raise and his smile melts into pursed lips. Atsushi smiles and gives him a friendly wave no different from how he'd welcome anyone else. Dazai chuckles and returns it.

* * *

The morning comes and he's eager to head to work, he's out the door in less then ten minutes for once. The sun's high and bright given the time of day, Dazai's waiting for him at the office and he's got everything he needs to finish up organizing those papers. The week has been kind to him.

He's got a few minutes and stops by a sweets shop for a snack, loiters on the sidewalk's end for the sake of enjoying the moment.

A distant shout rings out and Atsushi whirls around and faces the source, the alleyway across the street. He recognizes the voice at once, Dazai - and he's hot on the heels of their target. Atsushi drops his snack and dashes down his side of the street, but the busy crowd of people seem dead set on not letting him through. By the time he's out, he can only catch Dazai ducking back through two shady buildings, past a pile of garbage bags. Atsushi manages to get to the other side of the street and follows the echoing sounds of footsteps through the narrow passageways.

He comes sliding smooth to a stop by a sharp turn in time to see Dazai tackle the man to the ground with a resounding groan. There's still a scrambling of limbs and Atsushi runs to help, but Dazai looks up and shouts something he can't hear. The criminal decks Dazai and throws him off, scrambles to his feet and runs down the way before Atsushi can reach.

* * *  
"I can't believe you two managed to lose him twice! He doesn't even have a gift!" Kunikida shouts. Atsushi murmurs a quick apology and bows his head. If only he was quicker, better at this whole detective thing...

"Then technically neither do I~" Dazai perches himself on the edge of the sofa, only to fall over. Atsushi struggles to push his weight back - Dazai isn't big but he isn't strong. Atsushi tries to get Dazai to move but his weight doubles the moment he makes the suggestion and he collapses. It doesn't last long, Kunikida picks Dazai up by the collar and tosses him into another room, then runs to beat all hell out of him with a screaming cry of 'this is your fault, not his!' 


	7. Midnight visit

Whatever night's sleep he was hoping to get is broken by the crashing of a thunderbolt outside that paints the room in light for a few, brief seconds until it eases back into darkness. He shoots up, heart pounding in his chest.

"Are you alright?"

It's Dazai. He can just make out the shape of his rough brown overcoat against the far side of his bedroom wall. Good thing chasing after the terrorist yesterday exhausted him enough that he fell asleep, otherwise Dazai would have walked in on him with one hand on his cock and his chest painted with semen. Then again with how fast they've been moving he isn't sure whether that would be a good thing or a bad one.

Atsushi says he's fine, though after sexually accepting him, the love of his life has snuck into his house on a stormy night while a terrorist that's nearly killed him, that they can't manage to catch with all the resources at their disposal, is running loose in the city. The past few days have been eventful.

He's a shadow but Dazai's footsteps come closer and his hand presses to the top of Atsushi's head. Then eases its way through his hair until he reaches the back of his head, then back again. Its warmer contact then he thought Dazai could provide. Atsushi sighs a breath of relief and reaches up without looking. Dazai takes his hand in his, interlocks their fingers and sits beside him. Atsushi can see him now and he isn't going anywhere.

Of all the things he could mess up, this had to be it. He wakes up to Dazai's body curled around him, their hands still intertwined, breath mingling, face at rest but clothing intact. He can only barely remember what happened last night, Dazai's hand traveling and exploring him with a hot mouth on his neck, then teeth biting against his ear with a melting whisper and he chose that moment to go out like a light. The day hadn't even been all that tiring. Not tiring enough that he'd miss out on this great chance!

"Atsushi." Dazai's voice is heavy against the back of his neck, something slumbering and lazy, then his lips are pressing light butterflies against the bump that marks the beginning of his spine. "You're thinking, Atsushi. Stop it." A scoff rises in him. After two weeks of being haunted by fantasies of this situation happening, how to stop the mind from working. "Atsushi."

"Sorry." He blurts, not wanting to disturb Dazai anymore with thinking of all things. Atsushi wakes with the rising of the sun, yet he can't get back to sleep nor does he want to move. Dazai's arm is slung across his midsection and pulling him in, as if somewhere during the night he stopped being Atsushi and became Dazai's Atsushi. The thought isn't unappealing.

"Tell me it isn't morning." Dazai gives a full body stretch and sighs. Atsushi isn't sure if he's sad that he isn't being touched anymore or happy to see Dazai so serious and yet, so vulnerable and sweet. He's not speaking wacky, fool hardy thoughts at a higher tone of voice and singing about suicide, he's some twenty something that needs more sleep and a fuck to give.

"It isn't. The suns up anyway."

"Tell it to fuck off." Dazai rolls over and covers his face with one of his bandaged arms. The poor thing seems so miserable, curled up on the floor. Atsushi rubs a tiny circle into his back, smiling.

"The agency needs us."

"No, it doesn't." Dazai whines and huddles up with Atsushi again, managing to slink his arm under Atsushi's weight and loop around him. Atsushi hugs him back underneath his long coat, though Dazai has to bend up to help him. Atsushi repeats himself and Dazai lets out a pitiful groan, as if dying. "It doesn't, we've got the day off."

That's a little strange, given there's a criminal on the loose and no one's told him before hand. But, he won't question their logic - they've always been a little strange and, besides, he gets to to lie here next to his beloved for the morning.


	8. Anger

The suns barely risen, the room is painted in hues of light blue and the futon reeks of sweat and concrete. When he comes to, he's burning up and stuffy, smothering almost. A weight shifts under him and its no question as to why; sometime in the night Dazai and he intertwined. Dazai's head nuzzles his neck, his love of that particular part showing even now. His arm is slinking underneath him to form a full loop.

Must be awful, his arms probably fast asleep. Atsushi shifts to move, Dazai rises as soon as he does and eases him back down to the comfort of the futon and the embrace of his own arms with a mumble, "Too early darling." He can hardly disagree with the harsh shadows painting the corners and floor. Atsushi eases himself into the crook of Dazai's arm, which curls back round to listlessly comb through his hair.

It's disarming. He didn't think anything between them would be so intimate and raw. From where he stood three days prior, their relationship would never culminate to something of this level. At best they'd do a little kissing after a quick, depraved roll in the hay and never talk about it again but this is a little heavier then what he had in mind.

"You purr in your sleep." Atsushi hums and Dazai adds a tiny, floaty chuckle like a child in awe of a butterfly. "When I first showed up, you were asleep. I pet you, right behind the ears like this and you purred." Dazai loops his ring finger around the under curve of Atsushi's right ear and the rest of his fingers in his hair, rubbing a soft circle. He eases into a lull and blames it on his tiger instincts.

"What are we doing?"

"We're cuddling, Atsushi." Dazai presses a single kiss to his temple and he sighs, blissful. Dazai kisses him again, this time moving to his lower cheek, precariously close to his lips. "If you're asking what we are, then...lovers or friends with benefits? Pals after one crazy night, maybe. I suppose it all depends on what happens next."

"Why didn't you want to go out yesterday?" The way Dazai's face twists from serenity to annoyance is enough of a reason to regret asking - but Dazai insists on moving to the other side of the futon, entirely separating their bodies until he begins to feel cold. By the time Dazai seems comfortable again, he isn't even facing him. The silence stretches on and Atsushi bites his tongue, an apology is in order.

"I just didn't."

And for him, that seems to be the end of the conversation. He's rolling over and heading back to sleep. Heavy silence fills the room and it all feels empty, since the first time Dazai came here. Without that absurd, over the type silliness or the strange, enthralling and mystified stare that held his attention for so long.

Atsushi breaks it, because ten minutes pass and Dazai hasn't said a thing. "Dazai, I won't be able to understand if you don't talk to me." Dazai scratches the back of his head but otherwise doesn't say a thing. After five minutes Atsushi tries again. "I'm trying to understand why you feel whatever it is you feel so I can help you, but I need you to help me understand it too." He reaches out and touches Dazai's back, a hand's length under the collar. The touch should be fine since he twitches but doesn't shift away.

"Fair enough, I guess but say, I don't know...What if you hear something you don't like, and I lose you?"

"I wouldn't." Atsushi shouts, without a second's hesitation. Dazai rises and scrambles back to his side of the futon until he's on top of Atsushi, straddling his waist. "I wouldn't." He repeats, placing his hands on Dazai's chest. Dazai's smile is woeful and twists into a pained grimace.

"Why?"

"Because I like what we have here, I like you. A lot."

"Really?" Dazai's hand drops to his neck and touches him, ring finger rounding the collarbone. "No matter what I'm thinking, you like me?"

"I can't help myself, around you, some times. Most of the time." Atsushi manages to survive the embarrassment of saying it out loud. Dazai's wearing the face of someone who is both disturbed and genuinely intrigued, as if he wants to know more. "I, every time since that time, I've thought of you." There's no way to keep eye contact saying something so filthy and personal, no matter how vague he puts it. He sinks into the covers as best he can, before fingers trail against his chin and raise his head. He gets his first order in a while, 'more'.

"I can't explain why I feel what I feel, but I've been wanting you to sort of, rule over me - you know." Atsushi shrugs and stares at the opposite wall.

"No I don't know, tell me everything, every single thing you've thought about that, with every detail you could imagine." He can't possibly do that and live, not with Dazai's crouch a shifting movement away from grinding against his. He stammers through half a sentence with Dazai's laughs, "'I'm trying to understand why you feel whatever it is you feel so I can help you, but I need you to help me understand it too.'"

"Begging, kneeling, worship, ah-" He hides his burning face in his palms, this is ridiculous. Everything's moving a little too fast and Dazai's drowning him in attention, in little pecks and kisses here and there as if they've been together for years now.

"You are wandering into some very dark territory. I may not be able to give you up."

"No, no I'm fine I want to keep what we have, its just all a little much...?"

Dazai goes from mere touching to snatching the cloth collar of his shirt. He twists the white fabric around his hand, tight enough to turn the shirt into a vice. The cloth chafes against his throat and he shifts forward towards Dazai to compensate. From here he can hear Dazai whisper, something soft and sacred. "I oft have fantasies of you that haunt me. You, nude and handcuffed on a silver leash, on your knees, begging for me to choke and fuck you against the floor, the walls, the ground, anywhere you can take it. Nows the time to back out, the perfect time, because I don't want to overwhelm you. I don't want to hurt you."

As informal as it all feels, he can't help but feel safe hearing that - Dazai's a suicidal man who doesn't want to cause pain and has given him a second chance at life. Of course he doesn't want to hurt him, this isn't a confession, its a promise. "I don't know how to feel about hurt but, I kind of want to be overwhelmed." Given the weighty atmosphere, he expects more formality from himself but he laughs as if Dazai's told some type of funny joke.

Dazai pauses, easing off a bit from Atsushi. He didn't expect it either. "I mean it, stop me."

"Nope, your stuck with me now. I'm yours." Atsushi giggles more and grabs Dazai's hand. Their fingers intertwine, its complete accident but Atsushi likes it and Dazai doesn't try to change it.

Dazai kisses his cheek and whispers into his ear. "Then tonight, after work, I expect you to beg for me, Atsushi."

How he managed to make it through the front door of his house and begin walking like a normal person, he isn't sure, but he's hoping whatever well of willpower is pushing him forward will last at until tonight. It didn't hit him until he'd finished breakfast and began getting fully dressed that Dazai meant he wanted to have sex.

Now its veering towards mid morning, the streets are crowded with people, the sun is cloudless and high in the sky and they're walking to the agency together. Dazai's talking as if he hadn't said five minutes prior they were going to have sex tonight and not the sort of soft, gentle love making that his virginity would imply. Kinky, weird, rough sex with begging and kneeling that would leave a majority of his already tiny social circle both in shock and vaguely shamed.

From the moment they step foot on the first floor, Kunikida is there. To say he's worse for the wear is an understatement, his shirt is stained with dark splotches, not tucked in properly and the sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. His hair is an absolute mess, his glasses are on his forehead and he's gaping at the two of them as if he's seen ghosts.

"Where have you two been?" Kunikida rushes over to them as if there's some sort of emergency and Dazai begins humming without a care in the world.

"We were enjoying our day off?"

"Atsushi, what are you talking about?" Kunikida pushes his glasses back on his face and his gape has shifted to a glare, pointing towards Dazai.

"We had the day off, didn't we?"

"Use your head." Kunikida's glare is pointing at him for once and its more then a little disconcerting. "Why would we let an amateur detective run amuck for a day with a terrorist on the loose. The man's escaped us twice already, we have all hands on deck looking for him, then you two disappear, everything's in chaos. This would be the worst time to let you travel freely, much less where the agency can't immediately get to you. Who told you you had time off?"

"Oopsie~"

"You mean to tell me...that I worried all day and night yesterday over you goofing off?" Kunikida all but shouts through his teeth, knuckles cracking.

"Double oopsie~"

Atsushi walks past the brutal beating and settles into the office, enjoying the return to normalcy.

What little time he spends at the agency is spent examining evidence he hadn't seen before, but its all so nebulous and unconnected he can't make a connection. It's a wonder Ranpo isn't doing this.

So Dazai lied about the day off, Kunikida was right, he should've known. Then again, while Dazai is an complete jokester he isn't one to shurk off work responsibilities, especially regarding criminals. Terrorists aside, the biggest mystery is why would he willingly and knowingly lie and, even more so, why would Dazai get him involved. If Dazai wanted to goof off he could do that, and often already does, perfectly fine on his own.

Between suicide attempts, failing said suicide attempts and their developing 'relationship' he can't believe Dazai has the energy, peace of mind or time to weave lies.

He makes no progress and heads home for the day.


	9. Needs

Atsushi doesn't have the heart to follow him but ignoring him is out of the question. He walks into the kitchen and Dazai's doing the same as he's done before, lazing against the kitchen table, eyes unfocused, mouth expressionless and nose wrinkled, looking miserable by all stretch of the imagination.

"You might not want to talk about it, but I'm going to ask anyway. What's wrong?" Besides everything about the current situation, he means.

Dazai laughs, rolls his hand over his hair and stumbles around, feet tumbling over air like a drunk without a clue. "I, I don't know. I really don't. I don't know why you're asking me." It's a bit of a shock to see Dazai so 'raw' but it doesn't feel new or out of left field. There's enough of his usual buffoonery tucked in that he can't say its a surprise to see this part of him exist, but its a surprise to see him reveal it.

"Dazai, I don't think you're okay." Atsushi presents his hand and leads Dazai to the futon again. Seems like his wish to spend a whole day together could come true after all.

"It's not just not feeling up to things today, is it? There's something else." Dazai's resting himself in Atsushi's lap, aimless and unmoving. "If you want to talk about it I'm here. I won't judge you or anything, trust me I get it." Dazai's reply is a bone deep groan that shakes his whole body. Atsushi agrees and pets Dazai again, tells him to let him know in time and they recline. The passing minutes waste away while Atsushi combs his fingers through Dazai's hair, midday eases into dark orange evening and at last, Dazai manages.

"Atsushi, let's do it."

"What?"

Atsushi feels Dazai push him back to the futon before he fully registers what he's hearing. Dazai's knees grind down on his waist, strong hands hook around Atsushi's shoulders, fingers press in. He can pinpoint the exact places where the dot bruises will form. He imagines the pleasing chuckle he hears is because of something other then his face going beet red.

Dazai's mouth is at his neck and he sighs, gives himself up. "What is your obsession with my neck." Not that he expects or wants an answer. The warm flicks by his collarbone ease him back into a hazy place, where he isn't sure what to do with his hands, overwhelmed by the fact that this is happening. Dazai's devouring him and lavishing him, clouding his mind and filling the air with the scent of late breakfast and the strange mystery of the city.

* * *

The thrum in his blood comes alive when Dazai orders him but he's floating too high to hear it, the best he can manage is a sobbing mumbling plea for more while hooking his hands under Dazai's coat. He has enough sense left over to his hook his hands around the shoulders to get him out of the damned thing, though Dazai hums and re-positions them enough that it doesn't matter.

It's a strange dance where Dazai rolls his hips downward, shifting him against the cotton of the futon and the rough, throughly used material of his pants. The rhythm quickens until its brutal, pressing and dancing on the edge of painful yet never doing more than sucking the breath from his lungs.

Somewhere along the line he's eased up into waiting arms and something sweet wisps its way into his ear, then he's back on the futon, shirtless. One of Dazai's fingers pressing against his nipple, a mouth on the other, coaxing him along until he's singing out moans with a tiny part of him screaming at how quick he's breaking down. Atsushi clings to the jacket on Dazai's shoulders until he's easing up with an arm looping around his waist and a hand pulling his shirt up.

Clothing, right, that exists and its in the way. He goes to undo the straps on his overalls but Dazai swipes his hand away and undoes them himself, hands moving quicker and then Atsushi thought possible. He presses a small peck to Atsushi's cheek before easing him out of his shirt, more gentle kisses on his hips go trailing down through his inner thighs and towards his knees while freeing him from his pants.

He's nude, Dazai is looking at him with interest, absorbing every part of him he can see and everything's too real and sudden. He curls up in on himself to hide and Dazai rubs warm lines down his back, kissing his cheek, his shoulder, his neck. "Let me see you, let me see you." Dazai whispers and eases warm kisses behind his ear, lowers his defenses until he can't help but to crawl into his lap, nervous all over.

"Here, say ah~" Two fingers press against his lips, insistent and Atsushi opens without question. It's a tad too much and he retreats, gagging around Dazai's fingers. He doesn't let up and presses further, deeper until he's coughing and swallowing. Atsushi moans, even the fingers leave his mouth, its so rough and needed and he wants more of that. Pushes, orders, forceful whispers, more of what got him hooked on this man in the first place.

Dazai must notice too because the mouth on his neck goes from slick tongue to sharp teeth. The pinpricks of pain lighting up in his neck get a hiss from him and Dazai mouths an apology against his collarbone. There's a wetness rolling against his entrance easing him open. His focus is so diluted between the different sensations and feelings, he forgets where he is and falls back to the futon without a sound.

Dazai gets onto his knees and grabs Atsushi's legs, pulling him until their waists are almost equal, touching and his calves are resting on either side of Dazai's shoulders. Dazai can see everything again, he's whispering such sweet things, kissing his calves until he doesn't get that feeling of being overexposed; why hide how he looks from someone who loves him so much.

The fingers round again, there's a push, and he's inside. The fingers pull at something inside him and he grits his teeth around a grunt, there's not enough lubrication. Dazai pauses. Something on his face must've given it away. Yet, blessedly, he continues without even asking. Atsushi gasps out something within the vague space of thanks, distorted by another sudden pull.

Its minutes of him enjoying the little bits of rough treatment, something he's needed for so long now, until the pleasure first hits. Fingers brush against something inside him that make him gasp and reach up, then Dazai abuses that spot, lavishes him with the attention his body's been begging for and he covers his face with his hands from how strong it is. "Ah, no, none of that dear." Dazai strokes his hand with his free palm and Atsushi lets Dazai watch as his eyes close and moans float from his mouth like little gasps. Dazai presses more of his body against him and feigns thrusting.

His moans are real and hot against his neck, enough to make Atsushi draw light trails down his back with his fingernails. On the forward thrust he can feel the fabric brushing against him, Dazai's clothes, which he'd tear off him if his hands were cooperating. Nothing in his body is listening to him, everything is focused on that tingling pleasure rising in his stomach, growing until its out of control.

He's whispering pleas for more, but this isn't what he needs. Its not enough, not filling enough or overwhelming enough, he wants more of the roughness he imagined, more biting snaps and rough pulls that leave him aching in all the right places. Hes rushing towards it all the same and when he comes, its more then he thought, brings rushing in his ears and a tingling sensation in his hips.

The pulses don't stop until Atsushi's getting what he wants: too much. Atsushi's shivering on the carpet from the over-sensitivity, thrashing with heavy gasps and aimless thrusts in his hips. Dazai says something and withdraws. The sound of the fabric moving tells him Dazai's moving too, but there's nothing left in him to either chase after him or beg.


	10. Expectations

The suns barely risen, the room is painted in hues of light blue and the futon reeks of sweat and concrete. When he comes to, he's burning up and stuffy, smothering almost. A weight shifts under him and its no question as to why; sometime in the night Dazai and he intertwined. Dazai's head nuzzles his neck, his love of that particular part showing even now. His arm is slinking underneath him to form a full loop.

Must be awful, his arms probably fast asleep. Atsushi shifts to move, Dazai rises as soon as he does and eases him back down to the comfort of the futon and the embrace of his own arms with a mumble, "Too early darling." He can hardly disagree with the harsh shadows painting the corners and floor. Atsushi eases himself into the crook of Dazai's arm, which curls back round to listlessly comb through his hair.

It's disarming. He didn't think anything between them would be so intimate and raw. From where he stood three days prior, their relationship would never culminate to something of this level. At best they'd do a little kissing after a quick, depraved roll in the hay and never talk about it again but this is a little heavier then what he had in mind.

"You purr in your sleep." Atsushi hums and Dazai adds a tiny, floaty chuckle like a child in awe of a butterfly. "When I first showed up, you were asleep. I pet you, right behind the ears like this and you purred." Dazai loops his ring finger around the under curve of Atsushi's right ear and the rest of his fingers in his hair, rubbing a soft circle. He eases into a lull and blames it on his tiger instincts.

"What are we doing?"

"We're cuddling, Atsushi." Dazai presses a single kiss to his temple and he sighs, blissful. Dazai kisses him again, this time moving to his lower cheek, precariously close to his lips. "If you're asking what we are, then...lovers or friends with benefits? Pals after one crazy night, maybe. I suppose it all depends on what happens next."

"Why didn't you want to go out yesterday?" The way Dazai's face twists from serenity to annoyance is enough of a reason to regret asking - but Dazai insists on moving to the other side of the futon, entirely separating their bodies until he begins to feel cold. By the time Dazai seems comfortable again, he isn't even facing him. The silence stretches on and Atsushi bites his tongue, an apology is in order.

"I just didn't."

And for him, that seems to be the end of the conversation. He's rolling over and heading back to sleep. Heavy silence fills the room and it all feels empty, since the first time Dazai came here. Without that absurd, over the type silliness or the strange, enthralling and mystified stare that held his attention for so long.

Atsushi breaks it, because ten minutes pass and Dazai hasn't said a thing. "Dazai, I won't be able to understand if you don't talk to me." Dazai scratches the back of his head but otherwise doesn't say a thing. After five minutes Atsushi tries again. "I'm trying to understand why you feel whatever it is you feel so I can help you, but I need you to help me understand it too." He reaches out and touches Dazai's back, a hand's length under the collar. The touch should be fine since he twitches but doesn't shift away.

"Fair enough, I guess but say, I don't know...What if you hear something you don't like, and I lose you?"

"I wouldn't." Atsushi shouts, without a second's hesitation. Dazai rises and scrambles back to his side of the futon until he's on top of Atsushi, straddling his waist. "I wouldn't." He repeats, placing his hands on Dazai's chest. Dazai's smile is woeful and twists into a pained grimace.

"Why?"

"Because I like what we have here, I like you. A lot."

"Really?" Dazai's hand drops to his neck and touches him, ring finger rounding the collarbone. "No matter what I'm thinking, you like me?"

"I can't help myself, around you, some times. Most of the time." Atsushi manages to survive the embarrassment of saying it out loud. Dazai's wearing the face of someone who is both disturbed and genuinely intrigued, as if he wants to know more. "I, every time since that time, I've thought of you." There's no way to keep eye contact saying something so filthy and personal, no matter how vague he puts it. He sinks into the covers as best he can, before fingers trail against his chin and raise his head. He gets his first order in a while, 'more'.

"I can't explain why I feel what I feel, but I've been wanting you to sort of, rule over me - you know." Atsushi shrugs and stares at the opposite wall.

"No I don't know, tell me everything, every single thing you've thought about that, with every detail you could imagine." He can't possibly do that and live, not with Dazai's crouch a shifting movement away from grinding against his. He stammers through half a sentence with Dazai's laughs, "'I'm trying to understand why you feel whatever it is you feel so I can help you, but I need you to help me understand it too.'"

"Begging, kneeling, worship, ah-" He hides his burning face in his palms, this is ridiculous. Everything's moving a little too fast and Dazai's drowning him in attention, in little pecks and kisses here and there as if they've been together for years now.

"You are wandering into some very dark territory. I may not be able to give you up."

"No, no I'm fine I want to keep what we have, its just all a little much...?"

Dazai goes from mere touching to snatching the cloth collar of his shirt. He twists the white fabric around his hand, tight enough to turn the shirt into a vice. The cloth chafes against his throat and he shifts forward towards Dazai to compensate. From here he can hear Dazai whisper, something soft and sacred. "I oft have fantasies of you that haunt me. You, nude and handcuffed on a silver leash, on your knees, begging for me to choke and fuck you against the floor, the walls, the ground, anywhere you can take it. Nows the time to back out, the perfect time, because I don't want to overwhelm you. I don't want to hurt you."

As informal as it all feels, he can't help but feel safe hearing that - Dazai's a suicidal man who doesn't want to cause pain and has given him a second chance at life. Of course he doesn't want to hurt him, this isn't a confession, its a promise. "I don't know how to feel about hurt but, I kind of want to be overwhelmed." Given the weighty atmosphere, he expects more formality from himself but he laughs as if Dazai's told some type of funny joke.

Dazai pauses, easing off a bit from Atsushi. He didn't expect it either. "I mean it, stop me."

"Nope, your stuck with me now. I'm yours." Atsushi giggles more and grabs Dazai's hand. Their fingers intertwine, its complete accident but Atsushi likes it and Dazai doesn't try to change it.

Dazai kisses his cheek and whispers into his ear. "Then tonight, after work, I expect you to beg for me, Atsushi."

How he managed to make it through the front door of his house and begin walking like a normal person, he isn't sure, but he's hoping whatever well of willpower is pushing him forward will last at until tonight. It didn't hit him until he'd finished breakfast and began getting fully dressed that Dazai meant he wanted to have sex.

Now its veering towards mid morning, the streets are crowded with people, the sun is cloudless and high in the sky and they're walking to the agency together. Dazai's talking as if he hadn't said five minutes prior they were going to have sex tonight and not the sort of soft, gentle love making that his virginity would imply. Kinky, weird, rough sex with begging and kneeling that would leave a majority of his already tiny social circle both in shock and vaguely shamed.

From the moment they step foot on the first floor, Kunikida is there. To say he's worse for the wear is an understatement, his shirt is stained with dark splotches, not tucked in properly and the sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. His hair is an absolute mess, his glasses are on his forehead and he's gaping at the two of them as if he's seen ghosts.

"Where have you two been?" Kunikida rushes over to them as if there's some sort of emergency and Dazai begins humming without a care in the world.

"We were enjoying our day off?"

"Atsushi, what are you talking about?" Kunikida pushes his glasses back on his face and his gape has shifted to a glare, pointing towards Dazai.

"We had the day off, didn't we?"

"Use your head." Kunikida's glare is pointing at him for once and its more then a little disconcerting. "Why would we let an amateur detective run amuck for a day with a terrorist on the loose. The man's escaped us twice already, we have all hands on deck looking for him, then you two disappear, everything's in chaos. This would be the worst time to let you travel freely, much less where the agency can't immediately get to you. Who told you you had time off?"

"Oopsie~"

"You mean to tell me...that I worried all day and night yesterday over you goofing off?" Kunikida all but shouts through his teeth, knuckles cracking.

"Double oopsie~"

Atsushi walks past the brutal beating and settles into the office, enjoying the return to normalcy.

What little time he spends at the agency is spent examining evidence he hadn't seen before, but its all so nebulous and unconnected he can't make a connection. It's a wonder Ranpo isn't doing this.

So Dazai lied about the day off, Kunikida was right, he should've known. Then again, while Dazai is an complete jokester he isn't one to shurk off work responsibilities, especially regarding criminals. Terrorists aside, the biggest mystery is why would he willingly and knowingly lie and, even more so, why would Dazai get him involved. If Dazai wanted to goof off he could do that, and often already does, perfectly fine on his own.

Between suicide attempts, failing said suicide attempts and their developing 'relationship' he can't believe Dazai has the energy, peace of mind or time to weave lies.

He makes no progress and heads home for the day.


	11. Brought to Kneel

The door shuts behind him and he collapses onto all fours with Dazai's voice echoing in his head, tonight he's going to be begging. Beautiful, wondrous, kneeling at Dazai's feet, being lathered and smothered with the same heavy handed attention from last night. So focused and sweet, he's beginning to yearn for it. His face goes hot and blank at the thought of it, Dazai's coming here, again, tonight.

What type of meeting is this even. He couldn't see the etiquette for things like this being any different from a date, in which case holy hell he isn't prepared. Nothing suitable or even saucy in the closet, no decent gift. The best he can do is throw together some dinner, take a soak while it finishes maybe.

The sun's hitting the window, bathing the room in a dusky, orange light. The afternoon hustle of hundreds of people coming home from eight to three shifts has come to an end. The evenings fast approaching, dinner's hardly finished, his clothes still need changing. A solid three knocks on the door assures him its too late. He swings the door open and there Dazai is, completely unchanged. Good, no time wasted then. The butterflies flooding through his mouth prevent him from forming a sentence.

This night is to be the culmination of every fantasy he's had, every one of Dazai's little emotional confessions and outbursts, all those little interactions that hadn't yet bore fruit. If only he had a better body, or a sweeter smile, then he'd feel more at ease. It'd put him on an equal playing field with Dazai, who is standing there with all the smug confidence of someone who's worked over people with a single finger.

"It's fine, I knocked to be formal." Dazai winks and waves a tiny, sliver key on a string. Explains how he was able to get in the other night. His face doesn't hold any emotion he can pinpoint and Atsushi's watching every twitch and blink he can. The dinner table has multiple plates on it; a plate swelling with tea rice, some barbecued meat, a few baked sweets with a syrupy scent and a honey bake sheen.

"I m-made dinner." Curse his mouth tonight, can't it form more than three word sentences? With the blossoming smile from Dazai, he's going to need to be fluent. If only to be respectable and worth the man's time.

"Atsushi, I ate before I came over here." Its a good thing Dazai has more experience then him in this department. Though, it means he must have come with the intention of walking through the door and doing it right then and there, no ceremony or anything. That's more than overwhelming.

"Ha, ha. Alright, I mean - ah, I need to clean up and stuff. In the bathroom, you know, a shower. I'll be right back and then we can get started." He gets up and immediately bangs his elbow on the table, hard enough so the table shifts and Dazai jumps. He shakes his head, mumbles he's fine and all but dashes to the bathroom before he embarrasses himself any more.

* * *

The room's fills with heated vapor until the mirror above the sink is clouding. The absurd amount of bubble bath hes poured in hasn't overtaken the room yet, but his fingers are beginning to prune. He's already been in here too long. What time he spends isn't spent cleaning so much as glaring at the door as if it's threatening his life; Dazai is out there possibly waiting for him. Possibly, since the man had a habit for being aggressively unpredictable, one minute a straight faced, serious detective and the next minute attempting suicide right outside his house.

He could only be a virgin so long and Dazai is everything he's wanted for some time, yet its as if things have come along too quickly, too nicely. The hot air frees itself from the room as the door swings open. Dazai stands there, tossing his jacket across the bathroom floor where it lands with vaguely metallic sound.

"You mind?" He asks, managing to slip himself out of his shoes and socks. He nods, only because his heart's leapt to his throat and he's afraid it'll fall out if he speaks. Still dressed, Dazai lowers himself into the bath across from Atsushi, who hooks his arms around his legs to hide himself.

Atsushi doesn't dare to make eye contact and make this whole thing twice as awkward as it already is, and from the looks of it all Dazai is following suit. Yet, they can't sit here forever trying to figure a way out of it, someone has to do something about it. "Dazai, I was hoping you could tell me something."

"I have no idea what to say." Dazai drones without a hint of emotion.

"Then, lets be honest. What are you feeling right now, in this moment, with no censor?"

Dazai rests his head in the palm of his hand, elbow pressing against the edge of the tub."I've got the cutest boy I've ever seen sitting in a bath with me, sweeter then I thought possible and I - ugh, I haven't even said hello to him yet." Dazai's hand rubs against his light, half hidden smile he can see in his eyes, in the change of his tone, its obvious; Dazai's nervous as hell too.

To think, he spent the better part of the day fretting over Dazai, over how cool and dominant he was. Here he's sitting in his bathtub, still clothed, beaming like a school girl staring at their crush. He clamps his hands over his mouth to hide the giggle, but Dazai catches it and joins in, until they're both laughing at the ridiculousness of it all.

"Hey," Dazai reaches out to him and Atsushi meets him halfway, fingers intertwining again before he's easing into Dazai's lap. His pants aren't meant to be submerged, the cloth feels rougher than it did last night. He's easing back, sinking further with Dazai. Breath is warm over his shoulder, his mouth is on his ear, kissing a secret path from his ear to his neck. A hand wraps itself around Atsushi's and guides down his own chest, brushing against his nipple, easing down the slope of his waist and then, slinking between his legs.

Atsushi's first response is going fetal, again, and once he's there he wants to crawl out of his skin. They did much, much filthier things last night with none of this faux fighting. "I'm sorry, I'm just a little overwhelmed."

"Really, is that the truth now? Because I've been watching you for quite some time and you seem to enjoy doing this. I wanted to see for myself how you get off to me." That's too much to take at one time and his head clouds, how Dazai manages to make his brain go fuzzy so quick is beyond him. Pushing through the haze, his opposite hand touches Dazai's free one. Dazai kisses ease the tensing in his shoulders and with his hand gently pushing, they slide his legs apart until he's revealed and raw.

The hand wraps around the base and the strokes start languid, limp and relaxed in the wrist but Atsushi knows better and braces himself. When it speeds up the first time, Dazai's teeth sink into his neck. He sings a long, desperate note and his head clouds into nothing. There's a mild burst of pain, the sharpness of his teeth stabbing his skin but after that, its Dazai indulging in him, rolling his tongue against the skin. He surrenders and Dazai speeds up, puts his hands are around him and Atsushi's sagging against the soaked waist coat and white shirt. Head resting against Dazai's shoulder with breathless, fluid pants drawing from his throat with his hands clinging to the sides of the tub.

His hands tighten around the side of the tub until his knuckles whiten and his finger tips begin to ache. His waist rising as he arcs off Dazai, still listening to his praises and sweet nothings, stroking him through orgasm without stopping or slowing. Strings of mashed words leave his mouth, all incomprehensible sounds with the half audible mumbling of Dazai's name, until his body goes limp, strength leaves him and, this once, he's alright with it all, because Dazai takes over then.


	12. As Gentle As You Want Me To Be

The gentle sound and soft pressure of Dazai kissing each individual finger, then up his arm until he reaches his neck where Atsushi lulls his head to the side and pleads for more. A tongue flashing out, hot and quick against his pulse, a hand touching his with all the grace of a falling feather. Then a kiss on the lips, as chaste and sweet as he could have imagined it being, with Dazai parting to tell him how cute and sweet he is, from the light pink on his lips and knees to the gentleness of his voice, before giving him another.

Dazai holds his hand, locking their fingers together and presses a kiss to the back of his palm. So different then the ones thus far, something sacred, special, a little promise from his own heart against Atsushi's skin. "I'll be as gentle with you as you want me to be." The little squeeze in his grip is another way of saying once things get started he won't be at all.

He's lead to the futon. Dazai mumbles something and kisses his cheek again before his hands touch his face and guide him into something more passionate. Dazai's fingers drag against his lips more and more, his fingers pushing against his teeth until he opens his mouth. No time wasted, Dazai fucks his mouth with his fingers, whispering to Atsushi how incredible he is, how gorgeous he looks with his mouth filled.

The force draws something in him taut and he moans, opens wide for more. His mind knows whats in his mouth isn't Dazai's cock, but he can't help himself but to lavish his digits with attention. Pushing his against the fingers until they part. Atsushi thrusts through the space between them with his tongue and Dazai urges him on, 'fuck it, fuck it'. His face and head goes hot, the whole room is hot and Dazai's fingers leave to be replaced by a hand wrapping around his neck, squeezing until he gasps.

Dazai steals his voice away, this time pressing and suckling against his lips until his knees go weak and his arms shoot up to drag fingers down the back of his slick black waistcoat. His hands slip on the drying surface and everything goes straight to his head, even when his lungs cry for air and Dazai's hand gives him only the slightest bit of slack, he wants to drown in everything Dazai's giving him.

His thoughts begin to fall to the way side, one by one until there isn't anything on his mind but Dazai's fingers, his hands touching him, the gaze of intense focus and interest with that glint of care and passion. Then the hand disappears and he's back again, half reaching for Dazai's arm.

"Not yet." He smiles. "Since this is your first time and you don't want ease, feel free to ask any burning questions you have in case something comes up, okay? I want you melting, not confused."

Atsushi nods and collapses into Dazai's arms, not unlike the night he discovered his powers. Dazai accepts him and cradles him like a soft, tiny thing that he could snap in two in a moment's notice.


	13. Falling

It's a stretch to say he's not in space now, floating between consciousness and surrender. Dazai is cooing him out of it with soft, breathy whispers and kisses to his neck and shoulders. When he fully comes out to, there Dazai is, lathering him with all the attention in the world.

"Atsushi, the first thing I want you to do for me is to stretch your whole body out as if you've just got out of bed. Then, I want you to bend down and touch the floor, keep your legs shoulder width apart and stay like that." Dazai curls his fingers around Atsushi's chin. The image of keeping pose, body straining while Dazai's hips snap into him hard enough to push him forward, all send in into a haze.

"Um, that seems like a hard position to keep for any extended period of time...?"

"Yes Atsushi, it is, I never said this was going to be easy." Dazai nods again and Atsushi does exactly as ordered. Hands on the ground shoulder width apart, same as his legs, knees partially bent, standing on the balls of his feet. What he doesn't get perfect, Dazai helps with. He plants tiny kisses on the back of his knees and rubs Atsushi's thighs until he's happy with the spread. By the time he hears Dazai unzip his pants, a taut line of strain is crawling up his mid calves. With all the running he's done around the city, he didn't think he'd be feeling it so soon.

Fingers press into the sides of his waist and pull him where he needs to be and he can audibly hear the sound of slickening. He feels fingers press against him soon after and rub circles until he's opening up, relaxing where every other part of him is beginning to fatigue. Part of him wants to collapse onto the floor and relax, enjoy being spoiled.

When his cock presses against him, Atsushi's head sinks and his face goes flush again. It pushes insistent against him and a sob shakes loose from his throat. Dazai can't be abnormally huge, but there's a pull and push at his entrance. Even with preparation, the stretch burns. Atsushi bites his tongue. Everything coming to a point where the pain is too much and he wants to beg Dazai to stop. Dazai's still wet waist against his seals his mouth shut, he's fully seated.

Dazai's hand runs through his hair and manages to get a few sweat stuck strands out of his face. "Good, so good. You're perfect like this, you know?" A warm palm glides across the center of his back. "This part right here, I especially like."

Dazai's hips roll into Atsushi, never failing to fully seat him again. Tiredness spreads through each limb, one by one, alongside the building heat in his lower stomach. Sweat is beginning to overtake the water from the bath and the palms of his hands are going numb. Such a long wait for anything to take over, whether he was going to collapse or scream for Dazai to give him more. Then the hand curling through his hair snatches hard enough to get a half choked out shout from him and lets go without a second passing.

Dazai fucks him deep and hard, the way he always fantasizes about when the days at the agency stretch on for too long with nothing to do, but never thought he'd get. He's rocking against the floor, entire body wracked with it and he's stretching between two points of what he can control, his body or his voice. Then Dazai hits a spot inside and a sudden, overwhelming knot of heat wrenches the voice from his throat and control away from him. Everything's warm and his body runs hotter than normal, trying to contain it all.

It's effort to keep himself from melting to the pleasure and succumbing to fatigue, Dazai's order to remain in place not withstanding. If the spreading ache of exhaustion thrumming in him is anything to go by, its an effort he can't handle for much longer. He's disobeying, with the leaking pre-cum spilling from his cock on every snap of Dazai's hips, he can't physically still himself anymore. Pressing back and meeting Dazai halfway earns him a smoky pant. A shock of arousal spreads through his limbs and lower stomach at the sound, he made Dazai feel him and he can make him feel more.

He can't get his limbs to keep obeying him and he collapses onto his elbows and reddened knees, pleading for more. Dazai stops, a warm hand traces the tiny bumps and gentle slopes of Atsushi's back towards his shoulders. His waist is pressing, insistent against his back. Dazai's palms travel up again, this time urging Atsushi to stand on his knees.

No matter how tired he may feel, he stands, licking away the sweat on his lips. His thighs are burning up, a pulsing ache settles in the calf and upper thigh. Dazai's asking more of him, asking him to go endure more and he will, oh god he will, he'll beg for it just like Dazai wants because Dazai's mouth is back on him without a moment's notice. Starting at his hips and suckling on the imprints his fingers left. Then traveling up, kissing his side until he's pressing his lips to the space between the protrusions of his collarbone.

"Atsushi," Dazai asks with all the sweetness in the world and a hand combing through his grey hair. "What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to fuck me until I can't walk."

The fact he can say that out loud is a shock to them both. Dazai's eyebrows raise, his gaze turns into something Atsushi isn't sure he's meant to be seeing, darker with more intensity and hardens then he's used to. "Little minx." Dazai growls, his hand turns hard and without warning Atsushi's on the floor, squeezing between Dazai's hand and the futon.

Dazai pulls on his calves until Atsushi's slipping down the futon towards him and his legs are hanging limp around his waist. He yanks his thighs apart, squeezes his waist and licks his lips, Atsushi can feel him again, Dazai's going to be inside of him again.

There's a moments hesitation, as if he's wondering what to do - then a hand grabs both of his and Atsushi's locked with hands above his head. Dazai mumbles,"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Atsushi nods, unsure if he should be outright offended Dazai had to ask. There something pulls at him, when Dazai enters and he isn't all there anymore. Part of him left, went somewhere soft and gentle and sweet that he can't fully explore.

Dazai's back inside, this time fucking him open with long, hard, slow thrusts. There's a spike of pain in every one of them and Atsushi's body curls up. Fingers become nails scratching against Dazai's hand and his legs curl lock in a tight circle around Dazai's lower back, he can feel every part of him. How his entrance is squeezing around him like a vice, gripping to him when he leaves and caving when he enters, how he can feel it when his orgasm starts, he warns. "There, there-" He begs between breathy moans.

He's masturbated before, having days when he's taken time with himself but he's never felt it come on this strong before. It starts in the tips of his toes, his tongue, his fingers and travels towards his toes until he's shivering and shaking with it, dancing on the verge of it with Dazai's teeth abusing his neck. It finally tips over and the air rushes from his mouth, Dazai's saying something utterly, disgustingly filthy and wondrous, hot enough to earn another hot pull in his stomach as he cums, his release spilling between their stomachs.

Dazai fucks him through it and doesn't stop. The feeling dances on the edge of pain and pleasure, filling every sense until he's twisting his hips to get away with tears forming in his eyes despite the fact that he's pleading for more. Dazai's groaning from effort, having to struggle to catch his breath that he at last comes, the last few thrusts tearing a breathy sob from Atsushi's throat. Atsushi, breathes a long, pleased sigh, closes his eyes and slips under.


	14. Aftercare

So hard to hold on to or touch, the floating, flying and then falling deeper, deeper down until there's nothing left to toss out and no more worthless thoughts to forget about. Going from complete engagement to basic existence in a moment's notice. Running from the chaos of the world into a forgotten, empty well where everything is quiet and there's nothing above or below to be concerning oneself with. Never once had anything going on above meant so little. Here, the days where he feared starvation, seem like such little, minuscule, mad fantasies.

This space was nothing like he'd thought it'd be. All he was expecting from Dazai was the filthy, wretched things with chains and whips and confessions of things that no one should utter aloud. Choking, the salty tang of cum dripping down his chin, smearing against his lips and forehead, being spit on, stepped on, by Dazai. Yet, this was something different and wonderful he wasn't expecting to fall into.

Then Dazai, in all his softness and sweetness, finding out about the depths of his emotions, accepting them for what they are and coming over to ruin him from head to toe and send him down here, to this soft space at the bottom of the world. This ended in the best way possible. The silky texture of fabric pressing against his cheek, the sheer warmth of everything pressing against his back.

"Fall any deeper, and I don't think you'll come out."

No, no, let what is resting rest, don't shackle with the burden of having to see anything or deal with anything...Atsushi resists the floating feeling, eases himself into that place again, that wondrous strange place he wants to spend forever in. There's another noise up there, from a familiar voice, but he doesn't follow. He floats and sinks under again.

"Atsushi, its time to come up." The voice grows rough, becoming less of a voiced concern and more of an order, but Atsushi's disgruntled groan is what signals he's got his feet on the ground and his head above the surface. Damn, it all he was beginning to get comfortable. The glare he shoots Dazai is enough to make the man whisper an apology.

"If I was selfish, and I am, I'd make you fall again and keep you down." Dazai runs his bandaged thumbs over his fingers, smile holding all the innocence of a child. "If you'd be willing to wait a little longer, I could. I could put you down and keep you down there for quite some time, spend a full day going back and forth between pleading for me to fuck you open and floating. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

If that's a promise, he's forgiven. An entire day of nothing but Dazai pushing his head under the water again, fucking him until he's shaking. "Here, sit up."

He does as he's told and what a pleasant surprise. The early morning sun is peeking into the room, a wall of fluffy pillows waits for his sagging strength and Dazai's laid out a banquet of breakfast on a raised tray on his lap, garnished with a tiny, bright blue flower. Dazai's next to him, a cup of water in hand. Atsushi reaches for the fork and knife, to dig in, but his hand hits the side of the tray and everything comes to a hairs width of tipping over.

"Yeah, yeah you can't." Dazai places the water on the floor, grabs the utensils from his tray and feeds Atsushi a yellow white sliver of scrambled egg. "Chew, chew, swallow. Slow, no rush sweetheart." Such basic instruction is borderline insulting, he isn't three years old. Then he swallows before chewing and Dazai pats his back to help him get it down. He mumbles a painful 'sorry' and downs the cup of water.

Dazai feeds him the rest, then begins to dab at his chin and lips with a handkerchief, taking care to get all the food off. "Sorry, I must be a mess."

"No more than I usually am." Dazai giggles, though its straining at the edges. "Atsushi, do me a favor and stay home today, sleep and rest up, be sure to wash when you have time. Dinner leftovers-my plate's in the fridge." When Atsushi asks why, Dazai gives him a rather woeful smile. The entire command reeks of something akin to pity. "You can't even pick up a fork and knife properly. I wouldn't feel okay with you out on the streets alone."

Ah right, the bounty and the terrorist are things in his life he has to deal with. "When exactly do you plan on coming back?" Since you just reminded me why I miss being under.

"Tonight, of course, considering the big mistake I made."

"What happened?"

"I went a little softer on you last night then I meant to, even when I promised otherwise." Dazai rubs little circles into Atsushi's cheek with the soft pad of his thumb. "Don't get me wrong, I know what you wanted and I wanted it too. When you did fall, God, wow." The level of astoundment in his voice strikes a chord in him, it draws the same thin, taut line of sudden, inexplicable arousal in him as his moaning does. "When I saw how your eyes glazed over, right after I came, I wanted to shove you down deeper and keep you there forever. But~ I got distracted~ Inner thoughts, worldly worries, foolish things like that."

Dazai laughs at some inside joke that Atsushi wouldn't understand even if he tried, even while doing his best to communicate with him. Its annoying. "I apologize, when I enter a scene with you I should be focused on you. You can't see it but, ah you deserve an audience when you fall. I was on the verge of applauding you."

"Well, glad to hear I'm something worth watching." Atsushi can't think of anything to say after that, so he grabs his water and downs all he can. His shoulder complains, the main reason being the heated red mark that shows a clear row of straight lines. Teeth marks. That's enough of a tell that he's going to spend the day at home, discovering every part of him Dazai indulged in.

Dazai lurks around the house a while more. He doesn't pursue any further conversation, he sure as hell doesn't send him floating back under and Atsushi can't shake the feeling that he's here to be here rather than because he wants to be. When the only thing he can think to do is set the tray aside and head to sleep, Dazai begins to head to the door. He wishes Dazai a farewell, since wherever he's going is clearly more important than here. Dazai stares at him for a moment, then nods, returns his pleasantries and heads out without another word.


	15. Rescue

Given the shape he's in the order to stay home is more reinforcement than anything. The exhaustion settles in his bones, eyelids double in weight and somewhere along the line he lets sleep take him.

The apartment is emptier, clearer when he wakes. Atsushi's head isn't full of cotton or hidden under water, at least capable enough to do an inspection, he thinks. He smells of sweat and desperation, thats going to haunt him for about a full day even after he showers. Hickeys scattered on his neck and chest and the taut string of ache through his calves, nothing he wouldn't get from a rough day at work. He might as well head in, Dazai's order was based on how he was earlier in the morning, not now. Hell, he still hasn't made up for his first unexcused absence with Kunikida, the poor man was terrified the first time.

He washes up, gets together his normal outfit and heads for the door. The sun is shining, birds are tweeting and Dazai is waiting for him at the agency. There could be new leads on the case, they might have even caught the guy and he wouldn't know it thanks to his laying down on the job, as fun as it was. The streets are a little less crowded then normal, but no less harder to navigate.

"Hey kid!" A familiar man behind a stall shouts for him and he smiles, running back to him. Ah, he shouldn't...but he has a few minutes and well, he didn't get to finish last time.

"Hey, I'm sorry for running off before -"

Rumbling noise assaults his ear, the ground quakes and he crashes to the ground knee first with a damn hard landing. His leg burns up from knee to sternum. From the top of the building a red hot pillar of flame shoots into the graying sky. Rubble scatters across the ground, some pieces as large of his own head. Nothing makes sense and he can't get a grasp of the situation, there are too many people are screaming in terror, all around him is a rush of flailing limbs, smoke and cries for help.

What he can manage through the smoke and stone is the flailing, mangled leg of the sweets merchant hooked under the cart, pieces of red and white in the worst of places. Above, a second light outshines the flame on the floor beneath it and with a burst of thunderous sound the quake amplifies.

Atsushi's head rings like a struck gong, blood drips from the edges of his eyes, ears and down his neck. 'There's a man in danger' is all he knows and all he needs to know. Fur comes out, his fingers shift into a white paw and the cart goes flying, the man is freed. The ground beneath him grows dark with the shadow of collapsing rubble. No time. He throws the man to the street and his own scream catches in his throat when the rubble comes down on him with the strength of metric tons.


	16. Chapter 16

Waking up with the kiss of shoe leather pressing against his forehead would be a blessing. In whatever this place is, the thin white lights above him are screeching and some one outside the room is banging their hand against the wall of his room. Familiar voices are being raised and whatever injury his head sustained is making it difficult to tell who exactly it is. Even the sheets beneath him feel like sandpaper against his skin. All the exact opposite of failing, the world pressing on him and forcing him awake, rather than him waking up to the real world.

Another flash of pain shoots through him with a noise unlike anything he's heard. The sound of a truck slamming into him with all the pain of that first half second, spreading out for what feels like an hour. He curls into himself and sobs, the back of his head is screaming bloody murder. Then comes another and another and with each one comes a fading haze with a pinprick point of pain somewhere in his head.

When the final one hits he lies still, unmoving, until he's certain there's no more. The world's become clear now and everything makes a little more sense. He's lying in the investigation team's infirmary. Outside, the thunder becomes the banging of fists on wood and raised voices.

"I love how you think I don't realize that, Kunikida."

"You clearly weren't considering it!" There's another loud bang and a shadow in the shape of a table shoots across the thin window of the door. Oh, Kunikida's not pleased at all.

"You don't know the position I was in."

"Nor do I want to!"

"Trust me four eyes, you're not invited."

"Enough!"

"Enough? You're the one who started this-"

"I'm not the one who decided to suddenly take care of some desperate brat off the streets and then act surprised when it began following me like a lost puppy. He's lying in there because you don't think before you act. Did it never occur to you that Atsushi isn't the sharpest tool in the box when it comes to whatever it is you two do?"

"And what would you suggest?"

"Break up."

"How about you mind your own business?"

"I did. Look where that got us."

"Dazai, look, there's a reason why in this notebook, I've written and spaced out every ideal I wanted for my life, in detail. To avoid situations where my personal life and professional one mix too close. You need to begin reapplying yourself to sorting your life out, beginning at the most basic and simplistic-"

The sound Dazai makes is one of the most self deprecative snickers he's heard, its almost funny. Then, when he considers the sheer hysteria of the situation, its Kunikida's trying to tell his suicidal, bandaged up maniac boyfriend to plan out his life, its enough to make him muffle his own laughter with his pillow.

"I'm trying to be serious with you here. If you want to retain this relationship you have with Atsushi you need to cultivate some self control and stability. Can you?"

"...No." From his tone of voice, he answers the way someone would if asked if putting pennies in a light socket was a good idea. The bored, obvious, 'you know better and if you don't I fear for your children' kind of way.

His foot steps approach and Atsushi bolts upward. The door opens then slams shut. Dazai's got that joker smile crossing his features and shining through his eyes. Amazing, how after weeks of knowing the man and seeing his emotional lows, he can tell that the smile is forced. He'll give Dazai this; its awe inspiring how well he can pull it off.

"Atsushi~ Why would you come today?"

"I thought I was okay enough." He takes a page from Dazai's book and mirrors him, giving a goofy smile. "I'm sorry, I thought that since I was okay it was alright to come."

Everytime before today, everytime Kunikida and Dazai argued it was never this passionate, never with this much meaing or emphasis and never revolving around their relationship. Now it is and he doesn't know what emotion to project, does he need to be afraid that Dazai will take Kunikida's advice and break up with him or maybe this will be a temporary thing, a passing worry.

"Not your fault. What could you have done?" Dazai's as gentle as ever, his fingers brush against Atsushi's cheek to get off a few loose strands of hair. He's good at hiding his emotions but Atsushi can see all the things Dazai can't possibly hide. There's a darkness around his eyes, his jacket is all crinkly and there's even a sluggishness in his movements.

Atsushi grabs Dazai's hand on instinct. "Did you sleep okay last night?"

"I'm fine, between you and glasses out there I can't get a break can I?~"

There's a massive enough lie in there that Atsushi snatches Dazai's him and pulls him onto the bed. "No you aren't." Dazai stumbles and collapses on top of Atsushi's knees. "Why is it I always have to try and ease the truth out of you? I would think that after this long of knowing about you, and being in a relationship with you, you'd be telling me the honest truth. I already told you I'm not going to leave just because you say something weird."

Dazai's full body stills, doesn't look up and as far as he can tell, Dazai's focus is centered on the window across from his bed. The abnormally serious glare is back, Atsushi can hear the gears whirring and clanking in his head. "For future reference," He adds, "the first time you came over to my house, you tried to kill yourself by sitting in an oil drum."

A half held back awkward laugh chokes its way through Dazai's mouth, anyone who didn't know him might think he was insulted. The rueful smile in his eyes, his messy brown hair strings against his face and there's a saddening 'I wish I was anywhere else right now' feeling in all his movements, all point towards Dazai having another self depricating moment.

"Why's everyone so serious today?" Dazai whispers. Atsushi combs his fingers through Dazai's messy head. This is a bit much to hit him with one after another, between him and Kunikida it doesn't seem as if he's giving enough time to absorb everything. "I told you to stay home because I didn't want to risk you getting involved with the bombing, you weren't fully rested plus you just had your first time under. It'd be stupid to send you out."

"You never told me any of this."

"I assumed it was obvious at first, then I ran back." Dazai sighs, grabbing Atsushi's hand at the wrist. It's weird but Dazai begins to play with his fingers, stroking them with his own. "I stuck around the house, awake so long because I knew, I knew something was up and I was going to forget something. I didn't think you wouldn't know, I just didn't tell you how serious the situation was..."

"It was awful at work, everyone was in a tizzy, now was supposed to be the day it happened. We didn't know where, Ranpo wasn't here and I couldn't focus because I kept thinking of you. After Kunikida yelled at me, for the second time, I left to head to your place. It hit me that the terrorist was around here only a few days prior. The bomb had to be in a nearby building." Dazai smacks against the bed. "So stupid, so damned stupid." Then he goes still, limp almost.

"You don't have to keep talking about it if you don't want to."

"I know."

"So," He heaves a shaky sigh. "I came running past the corner and there you were, safe and sound, talking with some random street vendor. And I thought, 'Oh, everythings okay, you're just freaking out over nothing'. Then, think of the devil, it went off. I tried making my way towards you but there was too many people. By the time I got through, you threw a man to the street and." He laughs something broken and doesn't keep going.

Dazai, running towards the house to tell him that the terrorist might be planning something and that staying home was more important then first thought, only to watch him push another man out of the way and get struck by rubble. He doesn't know how bad the scene was, he can remember hearing a distinct snapping sound, a scratchy, squishy sensation on his lower stomach, fullness in his throat and warmth on his tongue.

"I wanted to reach out and touch you, to see, but if I did- Mmm, ha, not good." Dazai laughs towards the end and hides his face. Every instinct in him wants to cuddle Dazai, place his finger against his lips and tell him, 'its okay, I'm here now', but Dazai wants to tell his story.

"I know, I know I'm good at the whole forward planning, being mysterious, having control over the situation thing...that's what I do. But I'm human and it's twice now, and I can't, I can't..." Dazai's muffling his sobs against the sheets. "I welcomed you here, everything that has happened to you is my fault because I keep on underestimating you. You go ahead, take the initative and do what you think is the right thing, not the smart thing."

"I'm sorry."

Dazai glances up with a smile that stretches ear to ear. "Don't apologize for being too nice."

"I'm s-." Atsushi gives him the biggest smile he can possibly give. "Ah, now you've put me in a weird position."

They both laugh, nervous and more than a little awkward. Atsushi's toying with his fingers and Dazai's doing his best to not seem as if he was having an emotional breakdown not ten seconds prior. Atsushi reaches out, pets Dazai's head. "If you're not okay, you can tell me. You can always tell me."

Dazai tangles their fingers together and doesn't waste attention on anything else. The childish sweetness of his smile is something so undeniably pure and absorbed. "Next time I'll make sure we have enough time to focus on each other and I'll get my head in order."

Atsushi hums and kisses the top of Dazai's head. For all the kinky things they've been doing, he didn't think the man would be this sweet, gentle, tiny little thing that needed all the cuddles, hugs and fluffy blankets in the world. Dazai leans up, kisses his cheek and settles into the infirmary bed with him, limbs tangle up together until they're hugging each other tight. The terrorist could wait until tomorrow.

The night flies by with Dazai around. The dishes get done, the house gets cleaned and they even sneak in a little cuddling before sleep. Dazai rests in the futon besides him and spends the night nuzzling his neck like a cold, lost puppy. In hindsight, thats a little more apt a description then is comfortable, but Atsushi nuzzles him back, sneaking a kiss in before whispering good night.

When the morning comes, Dazai's awake before him, lying on his side, threading quick fingers through his hair and humming a soft tune.

"Do we have work today?"

"Worry about that later." Dazai kisses his forehead and whisks away to make breakfast.


	17. Wrapped Up in a Nice, Little, Silver Bow

Atsushi can't wrap his head around any of this, the few threads of evidence and data they have aren't coming together to form a full picture. The pound, business office and the bombing, plus random chases through the streets. At one moment the man can't be found and the next minute he's in plain sight.

The morning melds into a lazy afternoon and he's slung himself against the couch, lying down on his back but resting his legs over the arm rest. No background information, no threats, no demands, bomb untraceable, the office was a call center that hadn't laid anyone off in months so it couldn't be a simple revenge plot. If this was a fling for fun, he probably wouldn't be so damned hard to find. Port Mafia involvement was a possibility, in that case why did the man make an honest attempt to kill him?

Dazai enters the room, Atsushi moves to get up since this is his favorite spot but he rests a hand on his ankle and Atsushi eases back down. "Any new developments?"

"It's no use, every way I look at it I can't figure out this guy's motives or reasoning." Atsushi runs over what little he's figured out; which isn't much besides 'we haven't figured out anything'. "It's a nightmare."

Dazai hums, "Look at it this way, the sooner we catch him the sooner you can head back under."

"That's not a comfort since I don't think I can figure it out."

Dazai gives him a knowing, sweet smile. "If it helps you feel any better, I'm quite sure I have it all figured out and I'm heading there now to close the case."

"Alright, let me get my stuff-"

"Don't worry, in fact I'd prefer you not be there." He doesn't want to agree, given how much he's put into this but Dazai's smile bellies too much for him to object and he waves while he walks out the door. After multiple times watching and dealing with his 'death', its no surprise Dazai wants this done privately.

Then again, Dazai suffers so much when he isn't there, what's he to do besides sit around and mope...An idea pops into Atsushi's head and he beams from ear to ear, flying out the door once he's sure Dazai's gone.

He's long since head home, the dusk orange is flooding through the room, his shirt is in a folded up pile on opposite end of the floor and Kunikida knows, thanks to a letter that Atsushi had to blush through writing, to not bother them if and when Dazai finishes the case by the end of the night. Kunikida was nice enough to call him back about an hour later, with all the stuttering and embarrassment of a man who knows full well he's stopped being a voice of reason and started being an enabler, and announce that they caught the perp.

So now here he is, fresh out of the shower, fed, standing on the 'bed' part of his futon with only some tight black pants on and a brand new accessory he picked up after getting the idea from the kennel. A silver chain of decent length, shiny, a little on the tight side but not too much that he can't breathe, enough to be present and obvious. The door is creaking open, he hopes he looks good enough to please him - now is not the time to get nervous.

"Atsushi, you left your bag-" Dazai blinks and he stutters.

"Welcome home." So lame, but there's nothing else he can think of off the top of his head. For all the brilliance this plan was showing, it sure didn't shine through here.

After a moment's pause, Dazai drops the bag by the doorway and begins circling him like a vulture. A predator's gleam is in Dazai's eyes and he must look absolutely divine because Dazai licks lips and draws his fingers down his sides.

"Warn me when you do these things," Dazai whispers and kisses his neck, right above the collar. His fingers are toying with the links, playing little clinking noise sounds. "A man might lose control of himself...a pretty little thing like you standing there, all wanting and ready."

"I bet you would've liked me to warn you, having to wait an hour or so before you came home to play with your cute fuck toy." The hint of accenuaction he puts on the 'f' does it, Dazai's hand twitches, he pulls away and gives Atsushi the sort of look that promises he'll be under for a good long time.

Dazai gets up and fixes his cuffs. There's something so hot in how stern and demanding he looks, the sort of 'clean cut badass' type that doesn't actually exist, but shines through his personality every now and then. Dazai takes a firm hold of his chain, the tug is strong and he shifts forwards. "On your knees,"

"Yes." Atsushi follows his orders, willingly.

Hands are in his hair, fingers shifting through the long, gray locks until they tighten and force him to look up. "Don't ever say those filthy things again, not in front of anyone but me. For tonight, you call me sir, you understand?"

"Yes, sir." Atsushi nods and leans against Dazai's leg, his head is already fogging. Thoughts are coming to him slower, the want to beg is something he can't quite grasp and control now.

"Good, now then...where shall we start?"


	18. Bonus Chapter: Silver Chain pt 1

Dazai disappears and grabs a chair from the kitchen, setting it down opposite the bed and tossing his jacket over it. There's something electric in the air that he loves, that sexy sense of wonder in what could possibly come next, what does Dazai have in mind for his little fantasy. The chain around his neck is a light reminder of exactly how much he wants of this, though a moment of thoughtful hesitation hits him.

"So, what are we going to do?" He asks, thumbing the large ring that connects the collar to the silvery chain.

Dazai snickers at a joke he'll never understand and takes a seat, spreading his legs wide enough for him to crawl between. A happy little buzz and a tingly feeling dance in his stomach. "You," Dazai points at him, "Are going to focus on me while I fuck your mouth open." He makes a come hither motion, Atsushi takes his first step and gets a sharp glare that freezes him in his tracks. "No, crawl." Atsushi's throat tightens, its so foolish but his brain is only now registering what's going on here, this sense of having given up power to Dazai.

He eases himself down onto his knees, hands first and never breaking eye contact with Dazai. He isn't sure what the exact feeling is but Dazai gazes at him with a curiously discerning eye. Part of him wants that to be either Dazai intentionally making him curious or thinking up new, depraved ways of breaking him. Atsushi crawls between Dazai's legs until he can curl his legs underneath himself and feel up Dazai's clothed calves to his knees until he reaches Dazai's crouch.

Dazai's stare has become muted and curious and Atsushi rests his head on the chair, against Dazai's inner thigh. A warm, gentle hand curls in his hair, squeezes his cheek and curls around his chin. "What's your safe word?"

A bit of a rush to the head, that. "Ah-, um, how does 'Book' sound?"

"Sounds good, anything you'd like me to not do to you?"

Atsushi shakes his head and squeezes Dazai's thighs. The older man sighs, a smile dancing on his lips. Dazai's hands reach down, touch his own and push them away, Atsushi tries not to seem too desperate while Dazai unzips his pants and ends up thinking about his breathing, wondering if he sounds too breathy or not breathy enough. Dazai's cock is flush against his cheek, hard and hotter then he thought, Atsushi presses his mouth against it and sighs. Dazai is going to ride him to high hell and he can't hold himself up straight.

"I just realized how much I love seeing you choke on me..." Dazai isn't looking directly at him, more wondering wistfully at the ceiling with a cute, childish grin. Atsushi stands on his knees to peck a kiss to the right of his lips and sinks back down before Dazai can refocus his attention, he's quick enough and catches the semi embarrassed glance of a dom taken a tad bit out of his element.

Atsushi hides his grin, "No, I-I actually really like it, it makes me feel-nice." What he actually meant to say was that it made him feel like a little slut, but he sure as hell isn't going to tell Dazai that, he'd die and melt into the floor to never be seen again.

"Is that so?"

"Mmhmm," Atsushi hums and licks up the base, giving Dazai the most sultry look he can only to admonish himself once he's hit the tip. This is a bit much, isn't it, even for them- Dazai giggles and pets him.

"Well then, how's this?" Dazai grabs himself and Atsushi's pushed forward until his cock is pressing against his mouth, hot and smooth. The flicks his tongue at it, salty with a hint of his own saliva.

He can't get his hands around the base, so he makes due with his tongue. He flickers against the heated flesh, sighs a little at how Dazai's eyes lower, how his teeth bite into his lip while chokes back a moan. His nose is flush against Dazai's hips and he can smell soap, something wintery with a hint of pine. His nails scratch against the rough cloth of his pants while Atsushi does all he can to push against Dazai's own fingers.

Damn there's even a heavy heat right above his stomach and leading down to his crouch, he wants it and Dazai is doing this all on purpose.

Dazai's cock is in his mouth, Atsushi's nose is flush against his hips. His eyes are aggressive, possessive, deep seated, as if he meant that last promise in the most literal and beautiful of ways, Atsushi will belong to no one else but Dazai, forever.

There's a shift forward, Atsushi is vaguely aware Dazai is fucking his mouth open, to the point where his jaw almost goes slack and his eyes are rolling back. His head is descending under the waters and Dazai must be teasing him with it, knowing he's almost there, that if he was to grab his head and begin riding his face properly he could push him down so deep, he might never come back up.

"Please," he chokes and gags until he can't breath anymore then pulls back. A long, thick white line of bubbled saliva and precum connects the two of them until it breaks in his favor and spills oh his chest. The smoky, heated groan he gets from Dazai is more then enough reason to flash his tongue out and collect what he has on his lips before swallowing it. Dazai removes his hand and pushes him down, his cock forces his throat open with a burning flash of pain and a need to bite - he resists and heads under. He's been so, so patient, waiting for this, waiting to dive into that place where nothing but what Dazai wants matters.

The spit bead link between the flushed tip of his cock and his mouth breaks before he goes back. It's so pretty down here, with a hot rush against his mouth and a weight against his head. He floats for goodness knows how long underneath the surface, the heat on his mouth welcomes his hands and he makes up what he can't take with his warm palms, until the tip is choking him and pulling him further down until his mind goes blank and all he can do is feel.

"Here, here-" Dazai pulls him away and a hot spurt hits his right cheek, the second and third against his chin and open mouth. He sighs, eyes closing as he melts against Dazai's leg. This is exactly what he wanted, not being able to even think straight and with Dazai curling his fingers against his cheek and hair. "So good, you're so perfect for me aren't you Atsushi?"

"Hmm," he purrs and rubs circles into the floor, head not high enough above water to respond.


End file.
